


I'll Never be Sixteen Again

by BastardSirius



Series: Puppy Love Playlist Challenge [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bittersweet, Light Angst, M/M, Pre-Prisoner of Azkaban, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 15:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8851027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardSirius/pseuds/BastardSirius
Summary: Sirius raises an eyebrow at his stunned boyfriend and jokes “Need a picture, Moony?” Then he leans in and they continue kissing. “Merlin, I love this,” he whispers between kisses and nibbles.Remus knows he will never be happier.Inspired by: When by Dodie. Mind the tags!





	

**Author's Note:**

> The memories are in present tense in this one. Sorry if it gets confusing. My idea was that for Remus, memories are what feels more real, more "now".

**_I think I've been telling lies,_ **

**_Cause I've never been in love_ **

 

“Another round of Butterbeer, then?” the redhead asked as he looked inside his fridge.

“Sure,” the werewolf responded softly, leaning against the kitchen table.

“I’ll never understand why you don’t drink alcohol. I have plenty of _real_ beer in here.” He paused. “You afraid of losing control?” he asked, grinning. “I assure you I am excellent at taming wild beasts.”

Remus let out a chuckle. Charlie was the only one he knew - now - that could make jokes about his being a werewolf and make Remus laugh. The young man - _Boy, really,_ thought Remus to himself - was so full of life, so free of fear and prejudice that Remus couldn’t help but smile around him.

The man - **_Boy_** _, Remus, he’s barely twenty -_ sat on the closest chair, putting their drinks down and nodded for Remus to sit down as well. Since they’d met by chance at the Ministry a few months earlier, Charlie had slowly but surely gotten into Remus’ life. His stubbornness as Remus pushed his friendship away reminded him very much of James.

“Honestly, alcohol doesn’t do much for me,” Remus half-lied. Alcohol did affect him - quite quickly, in fact - but his high metabolism would flush it out too quickly for it to be worth his time. He would need to spend a fortune to stay drunk for a night.

“Ah,” Charlie started and his eyes sparkled. He loved it when Remus shared information about his lycanthropy. Remus wanted to be offended by it but the redhead’s fascination was too sincere, too unbiased, too much like that of the three young boys he’d known once. “Would be great for winning bets at pubs!”

“I may have done that once or twice,” Remus said with a mischievous smile and took a sip of his drink.

Charlie let out a big laugh and tilted back his head to take several long gulps of his beer. He sighed when he put it down. “You’re missing out, nothing like cold beer.”

“So back to what we were talking about earlier,” Charlie said after a few moments of non-awkward silence.

Remus held back a groan. He was a grown man, he shouldn’t react like a teenager. “I’d really rather not,” he said in a calm voice instead, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh come now, you can’t just give me tip of the dungheap.”

Remus rolled his eyes. This was the kind of stubbornness that had lead to their unusual friendship. “I assure you, not much to see beneath the surface,” he said and managed to sound sincere, “A werewolf’s life sounds interesting to you, I know, but day to day it’s just a regular life.”

“Not what I mean and you know it,” Charlie said with a snort, “I’m asking about that weird look you got when I asked you if the rumors were true about the full moon sex.”

“I wouldn’t know what you’re talking about,” Remus replied casually and immediately went for a too-long sip from his Butterbeer. When was the last time he’d had to consciously act casual? He couldn’t even remember. He hoped his teenager habit of blushing wasn’t back as he felt a tingle on his cheeks.

“You have not been celibate for thirty years, Remus Lupin. I don’t buy that.”

“How old do you think I am, Weasley?” Remus asked sarcastically.

Charlie wasn’t distracted. “And the other week you said something about being in love that pretty much guaranteed to me that you have been, before.”

“What did I say?” Remus asked, genuinely this time as he could not recall ever mentioning love to Charlie before.

“I was talking to you about how it’s crazy that Janus and Emmeline are now together even though all Janus ever does is scold Emmeline like a child.”

“Oh.” He remembered that conversation now.

“You said that there’s always madness in love.”

“I was quoting Nietzsche.” Remus shrugged. “‘There is always some madness in love, but there is also always some reason in madness.’”

“Right,” Charlie nodded, “That’s the kind of line only a man who’s been in love would quote. So spill.”

“I thought I was,” Remus confessed finally. His words were clipped and he was having trouble getting them out.

Charlie looked at him for a while, as if trying to solve a puzzle, before getting an expression of understanding, of some terrible knowledge dawning upon him. “They left because you were a werewolf,” he sighed.

Remus laughed. Charlie was startled; he definitely had not been expecting that. He blinked a few times and waited for the older man to explain further.

“No, no,” Remus said, shaking his head, “Most definitely not that. I mean — I guess maybe, when I look at it that way.” Confused, Charlie waited in silence as the clogs in the werewolf’s head turned. “It fascinated him, actually. Much like it does you. Most of the questions you’ve asked me, he did too. He was much more crude about them though.” Remus was now grinning at a specter, looking at something that wasn’t there. “For a long time, I thought I was in love.”

“Hate to break it to you mate, but you were. Breaking up doesn’t mean you weren’t in love,” Charlie’s tone was mocking, humorous but the look in his eyes was warm and comforting.

“I found out that he wasn’t real,” Remus sighed, “Everything I thought about him — turned upside down.”

“Black,” Charlie gasped.

Remus didn’t reply

“I’ve heard the story of course,” Charlie continued sheepishly, “And of course there were rumors about — well —” He couldn’t find it in himself to repeat them, and blushed and scratched the back of his neck instead.

“I know the rumors,” Remus said, shrugging. He didn’t seem particularly bothered by them. “Many people thought we were in on it together - why else would he let me live, they asked. I don’t truly have an answer for that. Ran out of time, maybe.”

 

**_Everyone falls for the sunshine disguise,_ **

**_Distracted by who they're thinking of_ **

 

Sirius and James are immensely popular. It is no surprise when they both are showered with cards on Valentine’s or when they get asked out by stuttering girls on a near-weekly basis. Sirius will often simply roll his eyes at the girl, not deigning to answer. James isn’t much kinder.

It’s curious because they both put obvious effort into looking attractive. James’ ruffling his hair and straight posture when girls are around is no coincidence, and neither is Sirius’ insistence on wearing too-tight jeans whenever they get a chance to be out of their robes and out and about. Last Hogsmeade trip Sirius had literally had to charm himself in and out of his trousers.

So after all the work for attention, seeing them turn people down again and again warrants at least a raised eyebrow. Even when they do humor a girl (or sometimes a boy, in Sirius’ case), it is never more than snogging behind green houses a few times.

One night, over a glass of Firewhiskey at a party in the common room, Remus watches Sirius turn down yet another girl - a very pretty fourth year. The dark haired boy simply shakes his head and smiles, then walks away from the girl without a word. Her friends come by and hug her, comforting their heart-broken friend. Sirius notices Remus watching them, and approaches him. With a nod towards the stairs, he pats his pocket. He’s going for a smoke and is inviting Remus outside with him. The werewolf is not a smoker, but loves fresh air.

They go out and sit down on the small ledge outside one of the dormitory windows. Sirius takes a deep and fast drag, then lets the smoke escape his lips slowly. Remus watches the boy, transfixed by the lines of his face and body as he sits down - his right shoulder a little too casually slinging lower than the other. Even now, with the two of them, Sirius seems to be controlling his movements almost as well as Remus does.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he mutters “So what was wrong with Rosa?”

“Who?”

“The blonde you broke the heart of down there.”

“Oh,” Sirius replies, and nods once. After another drag of his cigarette and a quick shrug, he continues: “Nothing, I s’pose.”

“You truly have a hairy heart, Black,” Remus says, chuckling, “Don’t even know their names. I am pretty sure you snogged her a month ago after Divination. Or Transfiguration. I forget.” It is a lie. Remus hasn’t forgotten a thing about Sirius Black in years, and most certainly not the people who have been kissed by him.

Another shrug. “Not like she knows me.” Sirius’ voice is distant, and Remus wonders how much he’s had to drink. The shorter boy isn’t looking at him so it is difficult to read his expression.

“Seems like she wants to.”

“No, no she doesn’t,” Sirius replies and chuckles darkly, “She just wants to go out with Sirius Black.”

“Are you not him?” Remus asks in mock fear, “What have you done to my friend? Who are you?”

The corner of Sirius’ mouth twitches and he almost smiles as he takes another drag. “I’m more than that,” he whispers after a while of silence. Remus is taken aback by the usually-cheery Sirius’ somberness this evening.

Not quite knowing how to break the awkwardness, Remus tries to lift the mood. “Ray of sunshine tonight, aren’t you Padfoot? I thought I was the Moody Moony.”

Sirius turns around now and looks at him for a long time. Remus wants to avert his eyes but something in him doesn’t allow it. His best friend looks at him in the eyes with a determined gaze, as if trying to speak to him through Legilimency. The werewolf licks his lips nervously, trying to ignore how fast his heart is beating. _He’s drunk_ , he tells himself, _Don’t read into it._

While he’s focused on his own feelings, he doesn’t notice the other boy’s internal struggle. Such is the nature of teenagers.

“It would be nice, I think, to be with someone who really knows me,” Sirius says carefully in the end, “Not someone who’s just dazzled by my family name or good looks.” He looks away again.

 _Never let it be said that Sirius Black stopped amazing me, even after years of having known him,_ Remus thinks, _I would never have taken him for a lonely heart._

 

**_I'd rather date an idea;_ **

**_Something I'll never find_ **

 

“How was— It’s probably a silly question, but what was he like?” Charlie’s voice was cautious but didn’t waiver. “I mean obviously the papers and the books… They all speak of him as an evil man but I don’t see someone like you falling in love with a cruel person.”

Finally, Remus’ resolve softened and he let his fake gentle smile drop. He bit the inside of his cheek like he used to as a kid, and ran his fingers through the circles on the table’s wood. Charlie got the distinct impression that he was trying not to cry, and felt a ping of guilt. He wasn’t a fan of hiding emotions, though. That wasn’t the Weasley way. They _talked_ about things and got through them together. It broke his heart to think that this kind soul in front of him had had no friends or family to do this with until now.

“They weren’t the nicest people,” Remus said slowly, but he was smiling again now. The redhead tried to ignore the watery shine in the werewolf’s eyes when he looked up. “James and — and Sirius. Most of the stuff you have heard about them is true. They were bullies, no other word for it.”

Charlie furrowed his eyebrows. “They don’t really say that about Potter…”

“Of course not,” Remus chuckled and rolled his eyes, “Not _now_. Nostalgia has a way of painting everything pink. Prongs— James was always our leader. He was the one who hated Slytherins and particularly Snape with a passion. Sirius may have been the rash one, but they were one and the same when it came down to their feelings and what they wanted to achieve.” As he talked, he relaxed. Charlie hoped he was getting the cathartic experience of sharing.

“I heard they were very smart,” he offered.

“You have no idea,” Remus said and grinned. “They were brilliant. I think that’s why it’s easy for everyone to remember Prongs fondly - they were immensely talented and nothing could stop them when they wanted to do something. Forget being good at what was being taught, they would make up spells and charms as if they were simply learning how to cook. Half of the things they achieved when they were in school, most adults my age wouldn’t dare try.”

“Now _that_ I can see,” Charlie said, “Remus Lupin falling for someone’s brain.”

“It was much more than that,” Remus replied, but was nodding and smiling sadly. “That side— the raw talent in all things magical, James’ Quidditch prowess, Sirius’ good looks — those were things everybody saw. And sure they had their appeal but for a teenage werewolf, they’re not on the top of the list for what you’d need from a friend.” He stared at the ceiling for a good minute but Charlie knew better than to interrupt.

“They were kind,” he continued finally, “They were kind and gentle with their friends. The meaner they were with Snape and the rest of the Slytherins, the gentler they were with me. They would even-” He paused to take a quick glance at Charlie’s eyes before continuing. “They would even take care of me after the full moon. And Merlin help anybody who even so much as looked at any of us the wrong way, they’d be hexed into next week.”

They drank in silence for a while and Charlie thought about what Remus had shared. Something occurred to him just as he got up to get another bottle. He frowned. “Remus,” he said slowly, “The way you talk about them… Have you— I mean — have you had friends like that, after them?”

“I haven’t had _any_ friends after them,” Remus responded, shaking his head, shoulders dropped, “You’re the closest thing I’ve had to one.”

Charlie sat back down and looked Remus in the eyes, face full of determination and solemnity. “You need to look forward, Remus. You need to know that there are people - many of them - that will accept you as you are. I am just one of them. I’m going back to Romania soon and I don’t want you to just be alone after.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Remus said, smiling.

It was both a lie and the truth at the same time. As soon as Charlie left, Remus would go back to his old schedule. He would stock up on canned goods - as many as he could afford - and go back to the abandoned farm he lived at. He would lay next to his most prized possession, his Pensieve, and spend his days and nights buried in memories until he had to leave the barn for food. Then the cycle would repeat.

Charlie wouldn’t have understood, so he didn’t try to explain it to him. He could never fathom why somebody would cling to a past long gone. By this point, Remus had been stuck in his memories of the past for over a decade - an impossible thing to relate to for the twenty-year-old boy who had so much life and promise in his future.

But Remus didn’t want to meet new friends. Charlie had been a good change of pace for a while but Remus was ready for it to be over, to go back to his farm. To his Sirius. He wanted to drown in the memories of his youth. They were perfect back then, and nobody could compare to even a shadow of their memories.

 

**_Sure, I'll live in the moment,_ **

**_But I'm never happy here_ **

**_I'm surrounded by greener looking time_ **

 

Eventually, Remus’ food and money ran out again. He had stretched it pretty well this time. Almost as a reaction to the normalcy he’d had with Charlie, he had gone out of his way to last as long as possible. He’d made it almost four months, but was even skinnier than usual by the end. Even muggles in London - used to seeing all manner of people - would often give him a second look with wide eyes, as if they’d seen a ghost. He didn’t have a mirror but he could guess what he looked like.

He found a contract to put wards on several houses. He’d been smart enough to ask for a down-payment this time. It wasn’t much, but it would ensure he wouldn’t be left with nothing. The spells took several days to cast in each house and to his surprise the wizards and witches were pleasant enough as he worked. One muggle mother had insisted on feeding him several sandwiches throughout the day and would not take no for an answer. She reminded him of Peter’s mum.

Remus would make polite conversation when people were around and none of them would have guessed that the second they left, Remus would disconnect from the real world and fall back into his memories. His would wave his wand with practiced ease and continue his work but all he would think about would be a boy with an impossibly big smile and messy hair, another with a shy smile and pudgy cheeks, and yet another with the biggest heart he’d seen. Or so he had believed. And if he closed his eyes for a few moments, he could believe that it was real. It had been real, hadn’t it? Surely he had loved them, at least James?

 

**_Am I the only one_ **

**_Wishing life away?_ **

**_Never caught up in the moment_ **

**_Busy begging the past to stay_ **

 

The last house we worked on was for two witches. He hadn’t thought of it when he’d first corresponded with them via owl, but as soon as he arrived he realized that they were a couple. It still startled him sometimes, same-sex couples, even after years of having been part of the wizarding world. His family had lived in a primarily muggle area so their ideals would still creep up on him sometimes. The witches were so casual about it, even without knowing about him, that it was a pleasant surprise.

He wasn’t sure what had given him away, but one of the witches decided that he simply must meet their friend Arnold. Remus had blushed and thanked them for the offer, shaking his head no. Apparently he had not been clear enough because here Arnold was, laughing and almost choking on his spaghetti at something Camellia (the young witch) said. The werewolf made a conscious effort to say as little as possible while remaining polite company and chuckling when the situation called for it.

After he left, Remus got up to finish his work for the day. He really needed to finish the fence today or else he couldn’t be sure the barrier would be complete and not have any weak spots. Camellia went out after him, and asked him what he thought of Arnold.

“Oh, he’s a pleasant man,” Remus replied, smiling.

“Ouch,” Camellia said and let out a laugh, “Not your type I guess?”

Remus shrugged. “I’m getting over someone,” he lied, hoping she wouldn’t want her friend to be a rebound and close the conversation.

“Ah, I see,” she said, nodding, “I guess that makes sense. Well, if in a few months you’re over the sorry bloke, we’re only an owl away!”

Months. She thought he could get over him in a few months. He laughed and nodded but in his mind all he could think about was that it would take him a lifetime. He wondered if normal people got over their lovers in ‘a few months.’

In less than a year, Remus is caught by surprise when that money runs out as well and he cannot find any other freelance work, finally having scraped the bottom of any money he had or could find. The moment has finally come when he has to sell his Pensieve. In retrospect, he probably should have sold it years ago. That month in Egypt in ’88 in particular had been a particular shade of hell and he would never have survived it without his werewolf stamina. Oh, the irony that his lycanthropy was the reason he could survive the starvation brought upon by it.

As he walked away from Knockturn Alley with a heavier pocket and heart, he wondered if his memories would be just as good if he didn’t get to visit them in person every now and again. Would he remember the small details like James’ small scratch on his forehead the day they had pulled the Great Stairwell Prank of 1974? Would he remember that there was some dirt under Sirius’ perfect fingernails the first time they held hands?

He needn’t have worried.

 

**_Memories painted with much brighter ink;_ **

**_They tell me I loved, teach me how to think._ **

 

“No _you_ don’t understand, Wormtail,” James tells the blond boy hurriedly, not stopping his almost-jog down the stairs as the other boy rushes to catch up with him, “It has to be at exactly nine seventeen.”

“I actually don’t think it—” the werewolf starts but James cuts him off with a glare. Remus raises his hands in defeat.

They rush to the Great Hall where Sirius is waiting for them with a mischievous grin and a big duffle bag. “Took you lot long enough.”

“We still have—” James looks down at his watch, “Three minutes before we start.” He turns to the huffing Peter next to him. “Guess we could have slowed down a little. My bad, mate.”

“I still don’t see the point of an exact time, but I’m not going to complain about a break,” Peter mumbles and puts his back on the wall, resting as his breath calms down slowly.

“Wormtail stop being deliberately obtuse,” Sirius says and rolls his eyes, “Of course it has to start at seventeen past, or else how can we ensure that we’re done with all of the tables by four past ten?”

“Thank you! That’s what I told him!” James agrees, throwing his hands in the air in despair.

Remus raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment. He watches the two boys discuss once again who will start with which table, and glances down at the map in his hands every now and then. After all, he’s on watch duty. He sees Filch walking towards the Astronomy tower and snickers as two unknowing students’ footsteps are tangled mere feet ahead of him. Good to see someone other than them get a detention for a change.

He looks back at the two boys who have now started counting down seconds. They will get detention too, surely, but at least it will be for more than a snog.

At six past ten, they are done and exiting the hall. Sirius looks very pleased with himself but James less so. “Don’t know what I calculated wrong,” he mumbles.

“I keep telling you Prongs, you’re just not as graceful and quick as you think you are. I think it’s the antlers. Or too much daydreaming about a certain redhead.”

James snorts. “It definitely wasn’t me holding us up. I finished my table first.”

Remus coughs.

“Well you don’t count! You’re always done first, you do-gooder!” James says dismissively, waving his right hand in the air. That’s their usual go-to insult when it comes to teasing Remus.

They laugh and joke all the way to the dormitory, not bothering with the invisibility cloak at all since they can now see clearly that both Professors on patrol as well as Filch are down in the kitchens.

Remus goes into the bathroom as soon as they enter. It is an unspoken rule that he always gets to use the loo or showers first. He is the first to be ready for bed just as he is first to be ready in the morning. When he first started school, he used to wake up at five in the morning to make it happen. Now the Marauders simply wait for him to be done. They know why he needs the privacy.

Sirius comes out stretching, shirtless with his pajama bottoms hanging loosely by his hips even though it is the middle of winter. Remus steals a glance at him and thinks that nobody can blame him for showing off a body like that. He’s already back to reading his book when Sirius sits down on his bed. Sirius watches him for a while and Remus forces himself not to react, to keep reading and hopes his face isn’t too red.

“You’re beautiful,” Sirius murmurs and leans in for a kiss, knocking Remus’ book away in the process. Remus concentrates on how soft Sirius’ lips are, how he can taste a hint of the chocolate toffee pudding they had for dinner - _Has he brushed his teeth? -_ and how he smells of the citrus soap Remus’ mum sent them for Christmas, with a dash of cigarette smoke, mixed with a scent that the werewolf can only describe as intrinsically Sirius Black.

When Sirius pulls back and throws him that knowing, cocky grin, Remus shakes his head and says with a fake sigh “Handsome. Men are _handsome_ , Black, not ‘beautiful’.”

~

Remus opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. He could still taste that toffee in his mouth. He remembered that day more clearly than he remembered anything that happened today, or any other day since James and Lily’s deaths.

 

**_I'll take what I can get_ **

**_Cause I'm too damp for a spark._ **

**_Kissing sickly sweet guys_ **

**_Cause they say they like my eyes_ **

**_But I'd only ever see them in the dark._ **

 

Remus wasn’t lying when he spoke to Charlie, but the Weasley simply hadn’t been specific enough in his questions. The werewolf was a master of avoiding subjects he didn’t want to talk about as James had been at avoiding Bludgers.

He hadn’t been celibate for all these years, no. Every now and again he would have stretches of months - once a full year - where he’d find a steady enough job and live a day life that resembled that of a normal person. The evenings and nights he would spend wrapped in memories but during the days he would allow himself some shred of ordinariness.

Some nights he would go to a pub and let someone flirt with him, and put up enough of an act that they thought he was interested back. Some of them would be obnoxious but he usually didn’t put up with that sort. His gates were usually only creaked open by gentler men with a sincere smile. He would be momentarily happy when the other man suggested they go back to their place. After all, he wasn’t immune to the desire of holding another body close, feeling the warmth and closeness of a human being.

He would be gone long before daylight, and he would fake ignorance if he happened upon them again by chance.

 

**_I'm sick of faking diary entries,_ **

 

It was the first anniversary of James, Lily and Peter’s deaths when Remus started writing again. He had kept several diaries as a young boy, but had stopped in fifth year. He started a new one. The first page was dedicated to James. It simply said “Prongs, I miss you, old friend.” The second page was when the ‘real’ journal started. He wasn’t sure why, but in his first entry he had found himself writing down about Herbology. In a sudden and unexpected fashion - as it often is - memories of a mundane day had come to him. James had sabotaged the project of one of the Hufflepuff girls and was trying to keep a straight face as the Professor tried to get the fungi under control.

So Remus wrote about that day. And the next entry was similar; a day in the life of Remus Lupin the teenager. Over the years his fake journals’ entries became sparse, but he would still go back and read them every now and again. Sometimes remembering details to add and scratching over certain words. Within a few years he grew out of the habit and instead of writing, he started closing his eyes and dreaming about the past until he could afford a Pensieve.

 

**_Got to get it in my head; I'll never be sixteen again_ **

 

Sirius throws his head back, howling with laughter, tears in his eyes. “It’s not funny, Padfoot!” James protests.

“Oh my dear friend,” Sirius starts, then pauses for a chuckle and nudges Remus next to him, trying to bring attention to his pun, “Get it, ‘deer’! Anyway, I’d say it rather is. She told you that if you spoke one more word she’d make sure your arse matches your head. Then she—” He falls back into laughter, unable to finish his sentence.

Lily Evans had hexed James’ buttocks to be three times their usual size. They were currently on their way to the hospital wing to get it taken care of, as none of the spells Remus had tried had worked. James had not let Peter or Sirius point their wands at his butt, saying he’d rather keep it.

They sit down on the floor, outside the hospital wing - “You will not come in here unless absolutely necessary! Get out!” Pomfrey has told them - and chat away. Remus and Peter try to work on their Potions homework while Sirius writes down ideas for insults to put in the map.

After half an hour, Sirius is too bored to wait any longer. He nods at Remus to get up and they leave Peter to wait for James, walking away. Back in the dormitory, it doesn’t take them long to start kissing. They’re sixteen and although they have very recently started doing this, it seems impossible to stop now. Every chance they get they have their hands on each other. Sirius is quick to disrobe and within a minute he is straddling a still-clothed Remus onto his bed. As Sirius looks down at him, legs on Remus’ sides, looking gorgeous, the werewolf’s breath is taken away.

The dark-haired boy is absurdly handsome. From his big grin with only half of his mouth to the somehow-perfect-without-playing-Quidditch chest, down to his carefully-constructed-to-look-messy hair,… Everything about the boy standing on top of him is perfect.

Sirius raises an eyebrow at his stunned boyfriend and jokes “Need a picture, Moony?” Then he leans in and they continue kissing. “Merlin, I love this,” he whispers between kisses and nibbles.

Remus knows he will never be happier.

 

**_I'm waiting to live, and waiting to love_ **

**_Oh it'll be over, and I'll still be asking when_ **

 

Next time he met Charlie in person, it was in a pub in Hungary. They were both here for work - for different reasons. They’d been owling on and off and the coincidence was too great not to meet up for. They chatted for a while and Charlie said he’s happy that Remus seemed to have put on a bit of weight. Remus smiled and complimented Charlie’s haircut.

It was his girlfriend’s idea, apparently. They spent some time discussing the ‘poor soul who Charlie tricked into a relationship’ and Remus was truly happy for Charlie, who seemed quite infatuated - maybe even in love.

“You haven’t said much about yourself - still celibate? Hanna has a great group of friends here if you want to hang out.”

Remus almost agreed before he managed to stop himself. _That’s odd,_ he thought, _I almost agreed to a blind date._

Charlie didn’t push it further and they went back to discussing Horntails and the havoc they wrecked recently in a muggle village. The Dragonologist would have his hands full for a while in Hungary.

 _When will I be over him, I wonder,_ Remus thought to himself. _People get over their lovers, right? Especially if they’ve been betrayed._ He thought about how he’s already outliving the expected life span for a werewolf. _Maybe I’ll die before it happens._

 

**_Am I the only one_ **

**_Wishing life away?_ **

**_Never caught up in the moment_ **

**_Busy begging the past to stay_ **

**_Memories painted with much brighter ink;_ **

**_They tell me I loved, teach me how to think._ **

 

There are a few rocks digging into his back but he can’t bring himself to care as Sirius is kissing his jaw and running his hands around him and _it feels so good Merlin Padfoot please don’t stop._

Remus stops Sirius by pushing him back gently. Sirius lets out a disappointed whine, sounding like his Animagus form. Remus chuckles nervously.

“Sirius I—” he starts, and looks into Sirius’ eyes, hoping he’ll know instinctively what he means. His fingers twitch around the edge of where his shirt meets his trousers.

And somehow, in a way that only best friends in love can - he does. Sirius’ eyes widen and he licks his lips. “Really?” he asks, breathless.

With a gulp and face blushing even a darker shade of red than it had been due to their previous activities, Remus nods.

“We have to go back! We have to go to the dormitory right _now_!” Sirius says and moves to get up. Remus holds him down, grateful that his werewolf strength means he doesn’t have to try hard.

“We don’t need to. Don’t think anybody can see us here, we’re way past the Forest entry.”

Sirius grins and his eyes shine. “Moony, never took you for an exhibitionist.”

Remus gulps. “We don’t need to…”

“Oh no, you’re not taking this sex deviant from me,” Sirius laughs and bends back down to kiss him. They kiss and roll around in the grass. Remus ends up on top of Sirius after a few minutes and takes off his worn blue button-up shirt. Sirius looks up at him as if he is a precious piece of art. Remus feels awkward because he is far from an Adonis and his chest - which Sirius is seeing for the first time in this context - is full of scars.

He doesn’t look at Sirius in the eyes until he feels two hands clasp his face. Sirius is smiling at him. Not his cocky grin but a small, warm smile.

“Thank you,” Sirius says simply and they go back to kissing. Sirius’ kisses wander down to Remus’ chest and his hands trace over the scars lovingly. He hums in approval whenever Remus gasps at a certain lick or kiss.

They spend over an hour exploring each other’s bodies and mouths. Their surveying is part lust but mostly love. They’ve had sex before, but this is different. Remus is sharing the most intimate part of himself and Sirius revels in it. This is what he wants, for ever. Kissing and holding Remus, bright spring sunshine on their bodies as they are tangled in each other. In love.

 

**_I'm sick of faking diary entries,_ **

**_Got to get it in my head; I'll never be sixteen again_ **

**_I'm waiting to live, still waiting to love_ **

**_Oh it'll be over, and I'll still be asking when_ **

**_Oh it'll be over, and I'll still be asking when_ **

 

**_When - Dodie Clark_ **

 

**_ _ **


End file.
